


The inevitable

by glimpseofmymind



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Phase Three (Gorillaz), Slow Burn (Sort Of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-08 18:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glimpseofmymind/pseuds/glimpseofmymind
Summary: Happy 9th anniversary Plastic Beach.





	1. I

After months and months disconnected from the rest of the world, in the middle of the ocean, somebody was bound to lose sense of rationality. Twas an island situated in the most isolated marine location, Point Nemo. An island unattainable by mankind that was still however discovered and developed by none other than the reckless, self righteous Murdoc Niccals. Now the man could put on whatever show he desired; the presence of multiple weaknesses in his soul was asserted long ago. One of them being the sentiment of love, that he had and was still desperately trying to push away, to ignore. But, as we all know, human beings can only fight feelings for a certain time before it all goes up in flames.

What can I say. Poor old man never had the privilege of learning basic human principles, like how to show affection towards another person, how to be a decent person. The role models, if we can even call them that, he had been given did nothing but develop in young Murdoc built up anger, violence, and a deteriorated mental health. All of his being damaged only at the age of nine.

So, the inevitable, right. Drinking. Smoking. Cocaïne. Anything to numb the pain, simple defense mechanism. With such a negativity-filled life, his mind was invaded with confusion as soon as a positive element appeared. Sure, kidnapping the person you love because you have no idea how to deal with your feelings is a little bit, just a little bit mentally disturbed. But that’s all a green man has ever known, right ?  
Am not talking about you, Ace. 

The abducted in question was the famous infamous Stuart Pot, Murdoc’s most beloved and most hated bandmate. The young man had barely started a new life, barely moved on from the past when he was drowned back into it by old friend chloroform. Next thing he knew he was on an island far away from college, work, girlfriend.

As time went by, things became less scary, and more depressing. Blue boy had his own room under the island, misfortunately close to the whales. Those animals were his worst fear, aside from Murdoc. Nights spent alone and paranoid, Stuart had often walked all the way up to his companion’s room, when the door was unlocked, of course. Although the majority of the time he was rejected or beaten by the older man, one night had been different than the others.

At the doorstep of the upstairs room, the boy stood, in ripped pants that became shorts and a shirt that probably had belonged to the green man beforehand. His blackened eyes were surrounded by matching dark circles, and puffiness from recurrent cries. He cautiously pressed his hand on the wooden door when he heard what sounded like sobs, whimpers. Now I used the word cautiously, but I will not add it to every sentence, since every action towards the Niccals man had to be… Cautious, as Stuart had learned through painful experiences.

He didn’t move, as the other was sitting on the floor, his back turned to him. His knees seemed pressed against his chest, and occasionally his body motioned back and forth, slightly. Two or three empty bottles of alcohol next to him meant that he wasn’t drunk yet. The younger was almost in shock: never had he seen Murdoc so weak, so vulnerable.

“Murdoc…”

His voice was almost a whisper, his steps were slow (and cautious). As he approached the other man, he crouched next to him, but still a little behind (he was still proceeding cautiously). Hesitantly, he laid his hand down on the green shoulder, getting a slight jump and gasp from the other. Quickly, the older turned to him, instinctive fear plastered all over his face. The sight brought a ping of onerous sadness into the boy’s heart. Water in the corners of mismatched eyes, dried tear stains on his cheeks, reddened lips probably caused by habit biting. Through the heavy feelings Stuart caught himself wondering how the man could be so beautiful when he was so sad.

Still as an instinct, Murdoc backed away from the other until he hit the closest wall. The boy’s hand hung in the air for a slight moment before he gathered his surroundings again. The older was staring at him with wide opened eyes, his chest rising up and down rapidly, seemingly whispering blabbers to himself. New strains of tears were created, some dripping on his dirty black shirt. Stuart looked back at him with the same emotions in his eyes.

“Murdoc…”

He repeated as he used his hands and knees to progress towards the older man, not wanting to stand up as it could scare him. He pressed his left hand on the floor, next to Murdoc’s thigh, as they were now closer to each other than they had been in a while. The older brought his legs back to his chest as he felt the immediate presence.

“It’s… Stuart. Uh… You probably already know that…”

He looked down for a second, before locking eyes with the green man again. Nothing was registering right in Murdoc’s brain, so he could not communicate that fact to the singer. He had never felt more trapped since he had left his father’s house.

“You… You wanna talk to me ?”

Stuart had sat down in front of him. Even with his legs crossed he was still taller than Murdoc. The fact would usually piss the old man off, but now he hadn’t a care in the world.

“‘Cause I wanna talk to you.”

He heard every word from the blue boy, but it still felt difficult to respond to them. Slowly, but surely, he lifted his arm, reaching his hand out to rest on the other’s soft, pale cheek. Maybe feeling something with his senses could help fully bring him back to reality.

“You… A-Are you real ?...”

Stuart was both relieved and worried to hear back from the older man. As he felt a rough hand on the side of his face, his heart oddly skipped a beat. He grabbed the wrist of the hand on his cheek, holding on tightly (but still cautiously).

“Yes. I’m here. I’m... real.”

Recently, the boy had found hidden in his room love letters, in the older man’s handwriting. It had warmed his heart while simultaneously bringing a lot of confusion to his damaged brain. He had always deeply loved the man, however he had never thought of it as reciproc, from violence and easy torment. Reading the letters every night was bittersweet.

Slowly he reached for the man’s other hand, taking a risk by intertwining his long fingers with green ones, lifting both of them up for Murdoc to see. He still seemed frightened, however the tears had stopped. For now.

“Talk to me…”

As the older was thinking, his eyes began to water again, and immediately the blue boy leaned in forward, shushing the man in a calming manner.

“You… You’re not real. I-I’m alone. Dad… He- I-... Dad hurt me…”

As he listened, Stuart began to hum a melody, still holding onto the older’s sweaty, shaky hands. The emotions suddenly disappeared from Murdoc’s face as he looked at the blue boy singing with his eyes closed. He had always been mesmerized by his bandmate’s voice, even when he had just met him. In fact he had probably had a big ole crush on the boy ever since the infamous accident.

“That was just a bad dream, Mudsie… This. Is reality.”

While speaking Stuart tightened his grip on the other’s hand and wrist. He could still see the fear in the mismatched eyes, however he watched as Murdoc slowly let go of his legs, letting them fall to the ground, trapping his limp body in between. He didn’t feel trapped though.

“You’re… You disappeared, you-… You left me…” Murdoc stumbled on his own words.

“Well.. It won’t happen again, okay ?” Stuart spoke calmly, going along with the bassist’s imaginary situation.

“You’re gonna leave me…” The older man’s voice was almost a whisper.

“No.” The boy insisted. His eyes wandered around Murdoc’s facial features.

“You’re gonna disappear…”

“No.”

The older man went silent. The thoughts were persistent, haunting images resurfacing in his brain as he choked on a sob. Stuart’s heart broke at the sight.

“Murdoc…”

Even through the tears, he looked back at the blue boy, the sight more reassuring than anything else in the whole world. His mind was playing tricks on him, hell, it was driving him crazy. But all he needed was a reminder that Stuart was truly there in front of him. Long fingers between his, a strong hold on his wrist, the sound of his words…

“I’m not leaving you... I’m right here.”

The boy didn’t wait for an answer; he leaned in, fluttering his eyes closed as he gently pressed his lips against the other’s. Murdoc closed his eyes as well, tears flowing down on his cheeks as he tiredly responded to Stuart’s actions. As the younger felt it was safe enough to deepen the kiss, he unhurriedly climbed onto his lap, his desire to be close to the man growing stronger. Murdoc could only respond by lifting his arms to rest his hands on Stuart’s lower back, pulling him closer in a low groan of relief.

Murdoc was almost sad when the boy pulled away. He looked up at him, their breaths meeting. He felt the relief flow through his veins, but it didn’t reach his heart. Inside, he still had this raging fire of hatred, this deep fear, this restless depression eating him alive. However, his soul was suddenly warmer as he looked at the figure in front of him. The boy pressed his forehead against his, speaking in a whisper.

“This is real.”


	2. II

Stuart woke up groggy the next morning, a pounding headache installing itself in the back of his head. He groaned as he stretched his arm to reach under his bed, searching for a bottle of any painkillers he could find. When he finally found one, he grabbed a handful, forgetting to put the cap back on. He sat up, bringing his hand to his mouth and swallowing the pills all at once. It was always rough for his throat, but over time he had gotten used to it. Plus, he would be ready to do anything to take the horrid pain away.

He checked the clock: it was almost afternoon. He mentally slapped himself for sleeping in. As he scratched his scalp, memories of the night before began coming back to his mind. He remembered comforting Murdoc, then leaving after the other fell asleep. He gulped. Hopefully the alcohol would be enough to make his companion forget about the events. And also enough to be too hungover to be mad at the boy for waking up late.

As the young man stepped into the kitchen, he immediately noticed Murdoc, sitting at the dining table. His skin appeared more pale than usual, and his back was curved as he lazily ate a bowl of cereal, which was almost empty. Stuart wondered if it was the result of a hungry man or of a lack of resources. He tried his best to ignore the man as he turned to the kitchen counter. But it wasn’t long until he started doubting himself, pausing his actions, his hands on the counter. Soon he turned around, walking to the dining table, standing next to Murdoc.

“Hey Mudsie…”

He messed with the black mop of hair affectionately, the other slightly angling himself farther from him, as an indirect rejection. He didn’t stop though, and Murdoc only groaned in annoyance as he felt the fingers brushing on his scalp.

“You doin’ alright ?” Stuart looked down as he kept at it with the massage. 

“Ya think ?” Murdoc didn’t look up from his cereal.

The boy sighed, pulling a chair to sit on the side of the table in front of the older man. He could tell Murdoc was finished with his cereal even as he kept playing lazily with his spoon and the remaining soggy cereal. They had absorbed too much milk to still be edible. 

“You done with that ?” The singer asked on the most neutral voice tone he could manage. 

The older man hesitated. “... Yea.”

Stuart took the bowl of cereal, bringing it to his mouth to drink the tasty milk from it. The older man watched it all, a hint of a smile forming in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a dumb arse.” Murdoc shook his head, his eyes glued on the boy’s. The insult almost sounded affectionate. 

The young man put the bowl back on the table when he was finished, licking his lips with his tongue and smiling at the other. Under the table, their feet were barely touching, their ankles and toes brushing against each other occasionally.

“You want to talk now ?” Stuart asked, without any bad intentions. 

Murdoc chuckled slightly, before looking down pensively. He was now slouching against his chair, his hands in his lap, his legs spread slightly. Stuart crossed his arms on the table.

“I don’t know, D…”

If the older man was previously feeling more positive emotions, he was now back to the tormenting negativity. His gaze stuck to the floor in a zone-out, he was lost in his thoughts for a moment before going back to the person in front of him.

“What the fuck do you want me to say ?” The bassist blurted out, his anxiety showing through. 

“Tell me how you feel, maybe.” Stuart never broke eye contact.

“To be fair, I should be the one asking you that.” Murdoc spoke... honestly.

Stuart’s eyes slightly widened at the words he heard. It wasn’t in Murdoc’s character to be weary of people around him. Nor to be this direct and honest. He quickly brought himself back to his senses, looking at the other.

“Me ? I, uh… I’m not quite sure, to be honest.”

The older gave a weak, halfhearted grin. “Guess we’re in the same boat.”

There was a moment of silence before Murdoc leaned forward, taking a breath and letting it out deeply. Stuart had looked away, but his gaze went back to the older man as he heard him speak.

“I gotta say, Stu… I’m sorry I even brought you here on this island... Regret haunts me every night.”

Stuart was surprised again, although he didn’t let it show this time. He looked down at the green hands on the table, and immediately he thought about the night before. About how close he felt to Murdoc with the simple act of holding hands, feeling his pulse through his fingers.

Stuart hesitated for a moment. “Well, thank you for telling me how you feel.”

“You hate it here, don’t ya... You hate me.” The bassist switched the subject, aware of the risk he was taking.

The younger man frowned. “I don’t… hate you, Murdoc. I just hate... the way you treat me.”

Murdoc’s fist clenched under the table, and he felt his heart begin to pound against his ribcage. As the panic was rising, he couldn’t bare to look at Stuart. He couldn’t bare to look at him in the eyes, to say sorry again. He knew it would never be enough. He had never known how to deal with everything the boy was making him feel. He had always associated it as wrong, abnormal. Odd. Something he had never felt in his entire lifetime. Long story short, he had never learned what love was. Once he was face to face with it, he had no idea what to do. If it feels wrong, should I push it away ?

“Maybe… If you were a little nicer, I-”

“Shut up, D…” Murdoc’s voice was breathy, even though his words screamed menace.

Stuart took a breath, ignoring the interruption. “Maybe I wouldn’t hate this as much as I-”

The older man lost it. “Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP.”

Murdoc stood up, violently pushing the chair away. He turned away from the younger man towards the kitchen, his hands in his hair. His breaths were heavy. Stuart was still at the dining table, too paranoid to move an inch. In one turn the older turned back to him.

“We were supposed to record today. Why’d you have to fuck everything up ?” In the room, it felt like the bassist was speaking just a little too loud. 

Stuart widened his eyes slightly at the accusation. “Fucking everything up by wanting to talk to you ?”

The older man had stepped closer to Stuart. At that last sentence, the anger boiled up inside of him, and he rushed to the other, who was bringing his legs to his chest in an instinctive panic.

Murdoc took his time, insisting on every word. “No… Fucking everything up, by reminding me how shitty of a person I am.”

The boy looked away as the man towered over him, getting a hold of his shirt collar. Breaths of whiskey on his face brought back sensations of the night before. This time, the ambiance wasn’t quite the same. But with the memory of Murdoc’s vulnerability, images of the tears on his face, he gathered enough courage to talk back, and to look at the other man.

“You’re… You’re not a shitty person, Murdoc.” There was a slight tremor in the boy’s voice. “I know, you’re just... broken.”

Slowly, the anger disappeared from Murdoc’s face. He had compressed that violence into his character for a show to put on. That’s what he had always been told to do, during his childhood. Put on a show, Dad always said. Or you could get yourself killed. He let go of Stuart’s shirt, slightly distancing himself from the other, his gaze furtive. His voice low.

“Stop…”

A drop of spit on the boy’s cheek. The man walked out of the room, leaving Stuart alone. The boy bit his lip anxiously, staring at the empty bowl next to him. Remembering Murdoc’s smile.


	3. III

They still ended up recording on that day. Stuart was used to the process; they would sit down in a room reserved specially for writing and making songs. The material and furniture smelled of nostalgia, covered in a light coat of dust. Some had thicker coats from lack of usage.

Sometimes they would chat, and get along fine. Sometimes Murdoc would yell, and Stuart would do what he had to do. This time, the older man was quieter. He was finishing a bass line on his most recent piece when, as his gaze was down, he noticed a pair of feet hesitantly making their way through the olden patterned carpet.

Stuart smiled hesitantly. “Can I join ya ?”

Murdoc grumbled, scribbling unknown words on a crumpled sheet as the boy joined him on the floor with his guitar. Showing his work to the singer wasn’t something he was completely at ease with, however it was never like he had a choice. Plus, he could always tell the dullard to leave whenever he wanted to.

“What are you workin on ?”

Failing to get an answer, Stuart reached for the sheet that was now on the floor. The older man had started using a new one. Reading the second verse, his heart jumped. He was convinced the words were glued to his brain from this moment on.

I’ll wait to be forgiven, maybe I never will

Murdoc immediately looked up when he heard Stuart’s angelic singing voice. He wasn’t quite certain of what he should do; keep on listening because of how good his ears were being made love to right now, or punch the son of a bitch for making him feel strange things like that. Meanwhile, Stuart grabbed his guitar in the process.

My star has left me, to take the bitter pill

The older man didn’t move, only his finger letting go of the pencil he was previously holding. His gaze alternating between long fingers majestically drifting on the instrument’s chords to chewed lips moving through the words.

The answer’s somewhere deep in it  
I’m sorry that you’re feeling it  
But I just have to tell you that I  
Love you so much these days

As Stuart sang the last words, the other did the same, without a sound though. Hitting the last chords, the younger man smiled as he caught him in the act. Almost embarrassed, Murdoc felt warmth on his cheeks, but he was still too mesmerized to look away. 

“That’s beautiful, Muds.”

The older man took the compliment entirely, burying it deep in his darkened heart. At last, he finally looked away, pretending to write something down.

Murdoc cleared his throat not so subtly. “Yea, thanks... Whatever...”

Stuart smiled, his gaze not leaving his companion. It was completely new to see the bassist so calm and reserved. And especially, not angry. He admired the remaining blush on the man’s cheek. His tooth pointing out between his lips as he was working. As much as he desired to be closer to his bandmate, he didn’t think of the moment as an appropriate one.

When the boy left, Murdoc pretended to keep busy, but his heart hurt, just a little. He looked on the floor in front of him, where Stuart had left the sheet he had read the lyrics from. At the top of it, he noticed capital letters written in red crayon.  
To Binge.


	4. IV

About two weeks passed by almost normally. Well, as normal as it would get for an island in the middle of the ocean. Stuart was left alone sometimes as Murdoc went fishing, and he tried to avoid the man when he let rum consume him. The album had been put on hold, apparently, and as time went by, the younger man found himself deeply missing the connection he had had with his companion. At night, when he was scared and in pain, he longed for comfort, for warmth. Let’s just say the underwater room was a lot colder.

It must have been about three in the morning when Stuart woke up in cold sweats. Panicked, he sat up, looking at his surroundings as he tried to catch his breath. Tears still present in the corner of his eyes, he closed them, attempting to visualize.

“Just a dream… Just… A dream…”

As he whispered to himself, a loud thud on the window was heard. Immediately, the boy yelled, jumping out of his bed to crawl towards the wall farthest from the source of the noise. He stared at the window, his heartbeat going a mile an hour, his forehead damp in sweat. When the noise returned, Stuart saw it: a large animal, with pointy teeth. He yelled again, burying his face and knees into his chest in fear, feeling the tears coming up again. He looked up instinctively when he heard shuffling from the hallway. He saw Murdoc open the door, a bunch of keys in his hand. The older man’s eyes searched the room until he found what- who he was looking for.

“Stu.”

“Murdoc…”

Stuart stood up immediately, walking up to the man and wrapping his arms around him tightly. He heard an annoyed groan from Murdoc, but no other response aside. He didn’t smell any alcohol. He held onto the bassist even tighter, his whole body still shaking from the sudden fear.

“What’s going on, huh…” 

Murdoc spoke in a calmer tone, although his voice was low, almost menacing. The boy didn’t have the conscience to notice it. A hand went to his back, rubbing in circles.

Stuart managed to speak through struggling breaths. “W-Wh… Whale…”

He heard the older man chuckle, but he still didn’t let go. It felt like he was in a trance, or somewhere far, far away from the island. He caught himself not wanting to leave this place.

Pulling away slightly, Murdoc looked up at him to ask. “You’re gonna be alright ?”

“... No.”

The boy also shook his head, emphasizing his words. Murdoc chuckled, bringing the younger closer to him again.

“Okay. Just... hold on.” The bassist ordered calmly. 

He grabbed Stuart’s thighs, while the boy was still not letting go of his hold. He closed the door behind him, and the singer watched it become smaller and smaller as Murdoc walked away from it. He didn’t take the elevator; he climbed each and every stair with the young man in his arms, the soft skin of Stuart’s face grazing the crook of his neck. It almost felt romantic, right ?

He was thrown gently on a bed, his shivering body covered in warm bed sheets. The boy soon realized he was in Murdoc’s room. He hadn’t seen it often, however he recognized the spot where they had kissed a while ago. He watched the older man rummage through piles of dirty clothes. The pants he wore were slightly bigger on him, letting a portion of his underwear show. When he turned around, it was to speak to Stuart.

“I’m taking a shower, er…” Murdoc paused. He seemed to be thinking. “Ya feeling better ?”

Stuart looked away. “... I think.”

Murdoc was uncharacteristically awkward, but Stuart didn’t mind. Seeing the man act a little more human helped his anxiety levels lower. He rolled around on his right side, groaning sleepily as his eyelids were strangely growing heavier.

When he woke up, the room was still dark. He heard the creaking of a door, along with some shuffling. His eyes barely opened, the boy didn’t move, only staring at the wall in front of him. He felt a presence behind him as the bed sheets were lifted. Murdoc sighed in relief at the feeling of his body against the bed, but also at the gorgeous scent of the blue boy, something between butterscotch and cigarettes.

Stuart almost gasped when he felt skin against his back, and arms around his waist. Murdoc’s underwear brushed against his own, his nose nuzzled against the boy’s neck… It almost seemed like love. They both fell asleep quickly.


	5. V

There were those days where the old man would get carried away with the alcohol. And carried away for Murdoc was… a lot to handle. He turns to alcohol as it is the easy way to put his internal torment to a temporary end. It was late in the afternoon when Stuart had headed to the kitchen. The sun was barely lighting up the rooms in the building, a light rain pouring down on the sand and in the calm waters of the ocean, bringing a familiar, comforting background noise. The younger man walked in to find Murdoc barely standing by the counter, a couple of bottles surrounding him, either on the counter or on the floor, probably by accident. Having succeeded in getting a little truth and trust from the bassist the last couple of days, the boy didn’t hesitate to step in and walk closer to him.

“Muds, what the hell…” Stuart blurted out without a fear filter. 

“Hello blue bird…” Murdoc slurred with a smirk.

The younger man reached his arm out to take the bottle from him, only for Murdoc to lift his arm up, a chuckle escaping his mouth. Stuart saw the smile on his face from what he thought was a victory. And he chose to act like he wasn’t tall enough to reach the bottle.

“You’re not taking it unless you want a sip.” The older still had a shit eating grin on his face. 

Stuart didn’t react at the behavior. “Is this your last one ?”

Murdoc’s gaze narrowed to the younger man’s nose, poking it mockingly. “Ah, you’re funny…”

The drunken man would have tripped and fallen if it wasn’t for the boy taking a hold of his arm. Registering the touches, Murdoc quickly pushed Stuart’s hand away after getting a hold of himself, more so. The singer observed it all, his brows furrowing in worry. And care.

“Muds, you gotta help yourself here. You… You’re falling back into old habits…” The boy tried to advise, but was cut off quickly. 

“You think you can tell me what to do ?”

One push on the chest. The younger man was almost shocked, however he didn’t let it get to him. He walked back up to the other man, only to get pushed with more strength this time, almost sending him to the floor. But instead of the floor, he was met with the counter behind him, which still sent a sting to his lower back.

“Ow…” The boy bit his lip in a whimper. 

Murdoc observed it all. “Hehe… Kinda missed that lil pout you make when I hurt ya.”

Stuart looked up as he heard the words, almost disappointed, but not as surprised as he thought he would be. He knew the older man wasn’t in the right headspace right now. But also, he couldn’t help but feel heat come up in his chest, from anger, and maybe a little disappointment. He wanted to see the good in Murdoc so badly. As he caught the bassist looking at him, their faces inches from each other, he took a breath to speak, menace in his eyes, teeth gritted.

Stuart tried again, desperate for an honest conversation. “Why won’t you ever listen to me ?”

The older man was sadly not on the same page. “I’m listening now, love…”

“S’not what I meant.” The boy sighed.

Almost affectionately, the older man went to rest both of his hands on Stuart’s cheeks, pressing lightly. It could have been a romantic gesture without the strong stench of alcohol practically emanating out of the man. The younger turned his head slightly, still maintaining eye contact with the bassist. He saw the other glance at his lips for a second.

The bassist spoke like he would pass out any minute. “Lovely thing you are blue bird…”

The singer gulped, but played it off the best he could. “Thanks, er… Hey… Murdoc…”

The older was too busy admiring him, a lopsided smile glued to his face, a knee pushing a little too close to Stuart’s thigh. The boy fought the distractions; he needed to make sure he could escape Murdoc’s hold without pissing him off.

Stuart thought for a second. “How about you…”

“Me…” The bassist dragged the word on his tongue.

“You go… take a little nap, huh ?...” The singer resumed hesitantly.

Murdoc was sadly too far gone to listen. “Hm…”

Stuart nodded, trying to convince himself mostly. “What’s that… What’s that say to you ?”

Barely seconds after speaking, he didn’t see it coming when Murdoc threw his fist across his face. He could only whimper, a hand going to the source of the stinging; the pain overpowered the surprise and his previous intentions. The bassist took in the boy’s chin between his claws before he punched him again, on the other side of his face. They’re matching now, the voices said. Plus it’s a little more consistent.

When Stuart tried to escape, the older man got a hold of the other’s wrists, gripping harshly. He heard the boy hiss, and looking up, he saw the tears flowing down, mixing with the purples of new injuries and the reds of… he didn’t want to know. Well he knew it. He just didn’t want to realize it. Wrap his head around it. Everything seemed like a blur. His grip on the younger’s wrists weakened when the word blood was repeated constantly in his brain, bringing back horrible flashbacks he never asked for. The burning end of a cigarette against the young skin of his forehead. The nausea brought by the foot slamming into his stomach. Violence wasn’t working as a distraction anymore. The alcohol wasn’t giving him what he wanted. He backed away from the singer. 

Outside, the sun was gone. It left the room darker, and feeling smaller. Almost like a trap. The lights flickered occasionally. Meeting the other’s gaze, Stuart saw the conflict in Murdoc’s eyes, the conflict that he knew was in his soul. He almost wanted to stay. Even with the excruciating pain in his face. He flinched when he saw the other throw a bottle, glass splattering on a wall. Seeing the newfound anger in Murdoc’s quick breaths and gritted teeth, he didn’t dare to move.

Breathing was starting to be a burden. He hated the feeling. There was a heavy lump in his throat and an ache in his heart when remembering the older man’s soft, gentle moments. It hurt his throat when he swallowed accumulated saliva. Not without a struggle, he took steps towards the hallway. As he saw him, Murdoc panicked, his voice still sounding incredibly weakened.

“Hey- Stu, I… Don’t go…”

Stuart made the mistake to turn around, and when he did so, the older man stumbled up to him. His fists fell clumsily on the boy’s chest, in a failed, lazy attempt to hurt him again. To push him out of his head once and for all. The drunken man tried again and again, only thudding pathetically on Stuart’s chest. The boy stood there, ambivalent.

“Don’t go… Don’t go…”

The older man repeated miserably. Stuart furrowed his brows at the sight. Both men had tears to their eyes. Murdoc let his head dump onto his companion’s chest, sighing in desperation. He had lost. Once again. And with this terrible relapse, he would probably lose his best mate too.

The younger man gently pressed his hand on Murdoc’s back, rubbing in soothing, slow circles. Recalling the same gesture from the older man a while ago, after a terrible whale scare. Soon, the crying stopped. Though he could still hear apologies in whispers.

“Muds…” The boy called softly. 

Murdoc sniffed through remains of tears. “Let me go, Stu…”

This time Stuart didn’t have to think. “Well I want you to stay.”

Murdoc looked up, the best he could from where he was. His fists were still on the other’s chest. He noticed the thin dried blood stain on Stuart’s cheek. He thought about wiping it off with his tongue when the boy spoke again.

“I want you to write a song with me.”

They sat on the floor of Murdoc’s room, with their instruments and a cheap recorder. Once they sat down, the older man immediately started scribbling words on a new sheet that looked like it was centuries old. His lip pinched between his teeth, his brows furrowed, Murdoc let everything out on paper. Stuart sat on his right, reading every word as he came up with melodies. In a little more than an hour, they had something close to a song. The boy sang as his companion played the simplified tune on his bass guitar.

Distant stars come in black or red  
I’ve seen their worlds inside my head  
They connect with the fall of man  
They breathe you in  
Then dive as deep as they can

At the last word of the verse, Murdoc pressed a button on one of their recorders, playing an old recording of a melodica. Stuart closed his eyes.

There’s nothing you can do for them  
They are the force between  
When the sunlight is arising  
There’s nothing you can do for him  
He is an outer heart  
And the space has been broken

It’s broken  
Our love  
Broken…

He heard Murdoc sing lowly with him through the chorus. After a bit, the older man stopped the music. Stuart heard him sniff, then noticed him wiping his eyes quickly with his shirt sleeve. Not so subtly, though. The boy swang an arm around the other’s shoulders, massaging the side of his arm in the process.

“This record’s gonna be beautiful, Muds.” The singer meant it. 

Murdoc took in the words, giving a response without looking up. “And I owe it all to you.”

Stuart smiled sadly, tilting his head to let it rest on the side of Murdoc’s head. Ignoring the sharp pain in his cheek. They stayed there for a while, the older man crying silently, and the boy massaging him occasionally as an attempt to comfort. A successful attempt.


	6. VI

The more they progressed through time, the more Stuart started noticing a change in Murdoc’s behavior. If he was ever drunk, he either hid it very well or wasn’t drunk at all. And that meant a lot for someone like him. The anger and the violence were rare, replaced by depressive episodes and silence. It wasn’t better, of course, but the boy took it as a sign that the man was showing his real emotions instead of fighting them.

After another usual day of working on music, finding resources and leisuring, Stuart found his companion on the roof of the island building. Standing on the edge, the older man was leaning against the wooden barrier, staring at the waves and the setting sun in the distance. The boy walked up to stand next to Murdoc, looking ahead of him as well. He heard him take a deep breath.

“Can I tell you something ?”

The younger man didn’t feel it necessary to respond, as he had decided for himself to join the bassist. And they weren’t arguing right now. Internally, Murdoc didn’t take the silence well. But with the strength he had left, he decided to step out of the good old comfort zone.

“Sometimes... Death sounds like a good idea, right.”

It was hard for Stuart to keep his gaze in front of him, however, he knew how sensitive the older man could be, and how rough it was for him to even express those thoughts aloud. Preferring not to startle him, the younger man didn’t move, but he did listen.

“This is where I come…When I feel shit like that.”

Spotting Murdoc’s hand on the barrier, the boy lifted his arm, slowly laying his hand down on top of the other’s. He noticed the older man’s gaze slightly drop. He turned his head to him.

“Murdoc… You wanna stay alive for me ?”

The other turned his head to the words, a hint of confusion on his face. Soon it was replaced by a semblant of mockery, the man’s gaze leaving him for the sea for a second. He could take all the time he wanted, the boy thought. 

Stuart gave the other a reassuring smile. “No pressure.”

Carefully, Stuart leaned in, gently pressing his lips on the bassist’s. Murdoc tightened his grip on the barrier, tilting his head up slightly as the singer deepened the kiss. He knew how all of this made him feel, and now he knew it was mutual, too. The thought should be relieving, however he found himself sensing an almost natural panic in his head. Halfheartedly, he pulled away from the younger’s touch, forcing a toned down laugh, his gaze furtive.

“... Had been a while, huh ?”

Not waiting for a response, the bassist walked away, in the most calm and normal walk he could manage. He headed to his room, forgetting to close the door behind him. As he threw his shirt away, he thought about needing a shower, although he clearly didn’t. He was never a fan of basic human hygiene. Far from it, in fact. However, in that precise moment, he was in need of an efficient distraction. Turning around towards the door, he saw Stuart, standing in the frame of it. This time he didn’t have to force a laugh.

“D, what the fuck…”

He spit out as the singer walked up to him, almost in a hurry, cupping the man’s face with his hands as he pulled him into a kiss, once again. Murdoc was startled, not an inch of his body daring to move. Starting to sway slightly, his hand went to Stuart’s arm, for support only, of course. With very slow steps, the boy lead him all the way to the bed, where the bassist fell from tripping on a bottle left on the floor. When Murdoc opened his eyes, he saw Stuart on top of him, and this time, he was the one to initiate the kiss. An hungry groan escaped his mouth when he felt a warm tongue slip through his lips. He felt like his head was spinning.

The younger man pulled away, only to slip his shirt out from his neck and his arms. Murdoc watched it all, his breaths quick and erratic. Technically this could work as an efficient distraction. Stuart threw the clothing away before burying his face in the other’s neck, invading it with sloppy, wet kisses. Soon, he was already marking his territory with a slight bite. The older man moaned, his hand immediately going to Stuart’s soft, blue locks.

“D…”

Murdoc whispered through his breaths as the singer lifted his head up to look at him, accumulated sexual frustration bringing a glowing spark to his dark eyes. Not looking away, Stuart’s hands went down to the band of the older man’s jeans, unbuttoning them expertly. The singer looked down only to see the obvious erection through Murdoc’s underwear. His gaze went back to his partner as he began rubbing on the hardening muscle through the thin fabric.

The older man groaned through fastening breaths; just from the touch, just from knowing it was Stuart’s touch, he could have lost it right there and then. Everything seemed so unreal; for a long, long time, he had perceived progress in his relationship with the blue boy, further from kisses and stares, to be inaccessible. If he were drunk enough, he would think he was having another one of his lucid dreams. As soon as Stuart pressed his fingers to slide his underwear down, Murdoc sighed, freed from the pressure of the clothing. Just as he looked up at the younger man, he was looking at him too. And the distance between them was closed again, in messy, starving kisses.

Stuart pulled away again, wrapping his long fingers around Murdoc’s aching length, stroking at a calm pace. The older man let out more sounds that only amplified Stuart’s attraction to him. In the moment, all of their hopelessness were left behind. All they had was each other in this great big world. They locked eyes again, Murdoc’s cheeks reddening, his forehead glowing with sweat.

“Satan, Stu…”

The singer kept an intense eye contact. “Is death still a good idea ?”

Murdoc answered in a hurry. “No… No…”

The warmth in his chest at the bassist’s response was a feeling Stuart would never trade for anything else in the entire world. As they kissed again, he inched one of his pre-cum coated fingers into Murdoc’s hole. A couple of curses were forced out of the older man, his body slightly trembling to the new feeling.

Stuart tried his best to calm the other’s ascending anxiety. “Relax. I don’t wanna hurt ya.”

Murdoc spoke through gritted teeth. “You will anyway, fucker...”

Slowly the younger man got a hold of the bassist’s hand. “Murdoc. Trust me.”

After all of the mess he had put the boy through, Murdoc could only at least try to listen to him. So he breathed in deeply as Stuart began pumping his finger in and out of him, still at a slow pace. When he added a second finger, the older man let out a small cry of pain, which was silenced by a quick kiss from the other, repeating in whispers for him to relax. He was still in awe at the way he was being treated. Nothing felt real, still.

As he began stretching the older man out by scissoring his fingers, Stuart thought that Murdoc was doing a pretty good job at handling all of it. Regarding the sex, of course, but also everything going on in his mind. He was aware of how people had twisted Murdoc; now that the man was fighting against his demons, it only made the blue boy’s admiration for him grow even more. Overflowing with love, he kissed the bassist quickly, whispering sweet nothings to him as, carefully, he slipped his fingers out, earning a sigh from the other.

Stuart took a breath, checking in with his partner. “You alright ?”

Murdoc grunted. “This is heaven… I belong in hell…”

In one swift movement, Murdoc was turned around on his stomach, all the air in his lungs suddenly pushed out in a semblant of gasp. Stuart had quickly taken off his own pants and underwear, before laying on top of the older man. Murdoc’s breath hitched when the other lifted up his lower back with one hand; he could feel Stuart’s hardening member against his skin. Words were forced out of his mouth from desperate impulses.

“Stu, for fuck’s sake…”

The younger man raised an eyebrow. “What ? What is it, Murdoc ?”

There was mockery in his tone. This time it wasn’t genuine idiocy showing through; the singer was playing dumb. The older man licked his lips quickly, turning his head to the side as he rested it on the pillow. His conscience wanted him to reconsider the situation, but every starting thought was clouded by a rising arousal. And Stuart’s lips on the skin of his back, pressing softly, muttering lustful words.

“Hm… Want ya…”

Murdoc parted his lips at the flattery, his trust in the singer stronger than ever. “You can have me… Anytime you want...”

After hearing the response, Stuart didn’t waste any time. On his knees, he pressed a hand on Murdoc’s hip. He spit in his own hand before getting a hold of his member with it, giving himself a few quick strokes. While massaging the other’s hip lightly, he pushed a few inches into the bassist’s stretched hole, slowly. He stopped as Murdoc was already thrashing against the bedsheets, the pressure and the pain invading his entire being. When he pushed more inches deeper, he slid his hand down on the bassist’s back for comfort. The sounds he heard were like warm, melted chocolate.

Stuart caught his breath the best he could before giving a few strokes to Murdoc’s ego. “You’re doing so good, Murdoc…”

“Hm…” The bassist’s responses were barely absent.

The younger man found it necessary to check in again. “We’re almost there, think you can do it ?”

An hesitation... “... Yes…”

As Stuart buried himself completely into him, he laid down again, earning a long groan from the older man. They breathed in harmony for a second, before the younger man initiated a steady pace with his hips. Murdoc couldn’t hold back the moans coming straight out of his core when he felt a pressure against his prostate. He buried his face into the pillow as the other was covering his neck with bites and kisses. He heard the singer speak between struggling breaths.

“Hm… So beautiful…”

Slightly picking up the pace, Stuart slowly pulled at Murdoc’s hair; he wanted to look at the man’s face more than anything. He breathed through his mouth rapidly, occasionally moaning lowly near the other’s ear. Soon the younger man abandoned his steady pace, losing control at the warmth and the pressure around his length. Through a deep-rooted affection, he found an addictive poison in the power he had over the person who made him miserable for so long.

Stuart groaned near the other’s ear. “C’mon, Mudsie… Tell me how sorry you are…”

The bassist immediately shut his eyes closed. “Oh, my blue bird… I… I’m… So sorry…”

“What was that ?” The younger mocked.

Without a hint of anger, the older man complied to repeat. “I’m… Sorry…”

When Stuart’s thrusts became harsh, and quick, Murdoc gritted his teeth to hold back a cry. He could feel the singer’s frustration through every movement. And he accepted it. He let it consume him, every inch of his soul. Accepting what he deserved was the least he could do. But, Satan, he was thinking again, and with that came the ascension of tears, the lump in his throat, the guilt in his heart. He managed to speak messily through the thrusts.

“Stu… Ngh… Please… Forgive me…”

Stuart’s heart fluttered at the words he heard. “I forgive you, and more.”

The heat of Murdoc’s body went all the way up to his face as the younger man picked up the pace, pounding into the older with a strength he didn’t even know he had in himself. His ears swallowed every moan from the bassist. The pressure building up incredibly quickly, Murdoc came with a feral growl, his semen spreading on his stomach and on the bed sheets under him. The pulsions of the muscle around his member sent Stuart to the edge, and he thrusted in one last time, burying his release deep into the older man. The feeling was odd for the bassist, but somehow comforting.

For a few seconds, they laid there, in a mess of audible pants and hot sweat. Stuart took the time to breathe in Murdoc’s scent, in the crook of his neck. Then, carefully, he pulled out of the bassist’s hole, earning a sigh of relief from the other. As he laid down next to the older man, the singer turned his head towards him. Noticing the lack of response, he shuffled closer to his companion, wrapping an arm around the back of his waist. Soon enough, he heard Murdoc’s quiet sobs and sniffs, and he held him even tighter, wrapping his arms around his partner’s warm body, their legs entwined.

“Did I hurt you ?”

Murdoc slowly shook his head no in response, and Stuart smiled. After all this time, he was finally reaching out to his bandmate, finally getting to see the side of him he hid from the rest of the world. Even after all the suffering, he was ready to give the man another chance, to get back up from scarring trauma. He was willing to give him a chance especially now that the man was trying. Trying for him. Nothing would ever be perfect between them, but… He liked it that way.

Kissing the side of Murdoc’s face affectionately, Stuart closed his eyes, the other doing the same as his sadness was seemingly washing away. No one was a better temporary cure than the blue boy. Even while kidnapped on an island in the middle of the ocean. The guilt regarding that situation would always haunt the bassist. However, as he breathed serenely in Stuart’s arms, he almost felt freed from it. The next words from the men came easily, naturally.

“I love you.”

“Love ya.”


	7. VII

Little old green man woke up still on his stomach; he didn’t notice the stickiness of it at first. The feeling in his gut was hard to describe (but I’ll try): exhaustion even after a good night of sleep. With half lidded eyes he took in the sight he had: a simple gray concrete wall. If he averted his irises slightly higher, a large window was situated on that same wall, without any curtains from lack of purpose. His own bedroom. Yesterday morning, the man had smashed his alarm clock to breaking point, resulting in the same man groaning in annoyance at himself as he didn’t have any landmark on time for now. Brushing off that thought, he slowly began to turn around to lay on his back, only to be hit by a harsh, yet vague pain in his lower back. Gritting his teeth, he held back a cry of pain, moving back to his previous position.

He assumed the sun had risen, considering the lighting in the room. Things never felt quite completely attached to reality on the island. Hell, sometimes Murdoc was even scared he would forget how to communicate with strangers when he would come back from Plastic Beach. If he even could, one day, leave this place. Simply thinking about it made his stomach churn; he had never wanted for things to be so complicated with his bandmates. And since things were complicated because of him, he didn’t know how to keep others from danger, and how to deal with any of the happenstances. Anytime things started going better, another bump appeared in the road, and he never managed to avoid it. Everything in his life seemed… Broken.

Until last night. Stuart had made the first move, that stupid sod. He would have never guessed, never in a million years, that one day he would spend a night with the singer. Murdoc had been in love with him for a long time now… Or was he ? Brushing that thought away. Closing his eyes, the old man swallowed dryly; he still didn’t know what to make of it all. The person that he had treated so horribly, that he managed to kidnap and hold against his will… That person wanted him. Or did he ? Was it just a one night to him ? For fuck’s sake, focus, you dumb arse.

But what is there even to focus about ? Everything about his life was one, giant blur. One incomprehensible mess of gray areas. His relationship with Stuart was the biggest of his fuck ups. But when the dullard put his hands on him, when he pressed his palm on the slight curve of his hip, when he kissed his skin… Nothing could replace the warmth it brought to his old, crusty soul, to the core of his being. It was like that emptiness he had tried so hard to fill with unhealthy distractions was finally… complete. Whole. And as usual, he didn’t know what to make of any of this.

He couldn’t be in love. That was what he kept telling himself, at the centre of his mind. By repeating it over and over, for a long time, it would become reality, right ? He sighed at how pathetic he was. At his age, troubled over a stupid crush… His thoughts were stopped by a pair of arms around him, and a warmth behind his body. The man didn’t move, barely breathed, his eyes stuck open. He smelled the hints of butterscotch as Stuart lightly pressed his chin on his shoulder, burying his face in his partner’s neck. Murdoc finally let his eyes closed when he felt hot wetness on the side of his neck. Man… That boy was a delight.

“Good morning…”

The older simply grunted at the words, but inside he felt an unusual, pleasant joy. He didn’t think he deserved to let those kinds of feelings get to him. However, as he felt Stuart’s member brush against his backside, he swiftly turned around on his left side, cupping the boy’s face as he lovingly kissed him. He received the heavenly moans he wanted.

“How are you, Murdoc ?”

The singer looked at him in the eyes as he spoke, and to look back at him, Murdoc had to slightly tilt his head up. He usually hated it, but this morning, oddly, he didn’t mind. He averted his eyes at the question, though.

“...I, er-”

Stuart interrupted only to reassure the bassist. “It’s okay if you don’t know.”

He watched the blue boy sit up with ease (lucky fucker), reaching for the closest bottle of pills to numb his daily migraines. When he laid back down, he kissed the bassist again, pressing a hand on his chest.

Stuart smiled at the other’s groans. “Do you remember ? Last night ?”

“It’s not like you gave me a choice.” Murdoc tried his best to sound annoyed, but really he wasn’t.

The singer looked into mismatched eyes as he responded. “I know I should be sorry, but I’m not.”

When Stuart gently pushed him on his back to climb on his lap, Murdoc’s lower back pain was a little more bearable. Their kisses were sloppy, stank with morning breath, but they didn’t care. When Murdoc pulled away, their faces were barely inches from each other’s.

“No apologies needed, bluebird. I deserve that pain…”

Stuart frowned immediately. “Muds…”

“Shut it.” That was an instinctive reply for the bassist.

The boy didn’t seem shocked, or scared at Murdoc’s response, simply resting his palm on the man’s cheek. His dark eyes seemed to be observing him, almost analyzing him. Anxious and paranoid, the bassist felt the urge to speak again.

“I deserve pain, but not… love. Next time you shag me, cut the bullshit and make it hurt, alright.”

Stuart gave a peck to Murdoc’s collar bone. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Haven’t I been cruel to you ?”

Stuart looked away. The intimacy of their position was slowly killing Murdoc inside. He always wished so badly that he could just let the boy have him, spend all of his time with him. He sensed a deep sadness resurfacing in his gut, however he still kept eye contact with the singer.

“Look me in the eyes, and tell me I haven’t treated you like shit.” When he didn’t get a response, another question popped up in Murdoc’s mind. “You wanna leave this island, do you ?”

Finally, the boy looked at him again. He almost felt relieved. But then, every word from Stuart’s mouth made the regret in his soul grow even more.

“Of course I do. And so do you… But… I don’t want to leave you.”

Murdoc exhaled calmly as the singer rubbed his cheek with his thumb. Everything inside of him was telling him to let his impulses take control, but he knew it wasn’t how the story should go. At least not the story where Stuart is happy.

“Stu, I…” The bassist began but was cut off almost immediately. 

“You liked it last night, huh ? You liked it when I was inside of you…”

Murdoc was stunned at the words. “Uh…”

They kissed again. He couldn’t help it, his brain was visualising things because of the boy now. He drove the man so damn insane, yet he had no idea. Or maybe he did, with the embarrassing begs and desperate moans he gave him last night. He needed to punch himself for doing that while sober. Multiple times. Although a part of him didn’t fully regret it.

“You like it when I’m around.” Stuart was starting to play with the older man’s head. But he went along with it. 

“Most of the time.”

“Don’t make me leave then.” The boy traced patterns on Murdoc’s chest.

And the older spoke halfheartedly. “I don’t have the choice…”

Without a warning, Stuart began moving his hips extremely slowly, Murdoc’s semi erected member slipping between his ass cheeks. In instinct, the older man’s hand went to the boy’s hip, groaning at the pressure. Stubborn as he is, he attempted to speak anyway.

“I know how miserable you are, D... I have cameras in your room... I saw how... crushed your soul is.” The bassist was already panting under the touches. 

“Hm…” Stuart responded in what almost sounded like a moan.

Murdoc insisted, stubborn on his idea. “And that’s why you need to leave...”

“I don’t want to leave.” What he didn’t see coming is the singer was stubborn too.

Irritation showed through the older man’s voice. “I’m not bloody asking you…”

He didn’t see it coming when Stuart stopped moving, contenting himself with a simple, deep kiss. The bassist slipped his tongue into the boy’s mouth when he felt him part his lips slightly, tasting him entirely. His hand was still on the other’s hip, rubbing slightly. Stuart was the one to pull away.

The boy inspected Murdoc, a finger on his lower lip. “I only want to leave when you’re mean to me… So if you want me to stay… Stop being a dick, and let me love you. Deal ?”

“Uh…” The older man found himself dumbfounded once again.

“Come on Mudsie… Be nice to your boyfriend…”

The word made his heart skip a beat. His brain completely forgot about rationality as he lifted up his head slightly to kiss the boy again, yearning for the taste. When he started gripping at the boy’s hips and biting his lip, he was harshly turned around on his stomach. He didn’t have the strength to move. He only looked behind him, watching Stuart kneel on the bed and give his backside a slap. He groaned lowly, his erection gradually bringing pain. The boy slid his hands down on the sides of Murdoc’s body, stopping slightly below his hips. Then, he barely spread the man’s legs to lay down between them. The older felt a warm breath on his backside.

“Stu…”

The younger man didn’t let the other finish. “Be nice to me, won’t ya.”

Stuart began by kissing the sensitive skin around Murdoc’s hole, spreading his cheeks with his hands on each side. Already lost in oblivion, the bassist buried his face into the pillow, reminding himself of last night’s events. He would never understand why the singer treated him so well. He let out a long moan, feeling Stuart’s tongue and saliva on his hole. It didn’t feel like Plastic Beach anymore.

“So good… So good…”

The praise immediately got to Murdoc, as he lifted his head to breathe. The singer kept at it with his tongue, slipping it in and out once a while. Whenever he moaned, the older would feel it reverberating through his entire body. It was something he never wanted to end.

“You’re a god, Stu… And I worship you…”

The man was too far gone to care about his pride, or the facade he was supposed to put on. For once in his lifetime, he felt safe, and almost… loved. It would take a lot of time to fix his relationship with Stuart, but at that exact moment, he was willing to try. So willing. It was almost unreal.

From a mix of licks and kisses, Murdoc orgasmed hard, groaning sleepily as he dirtied his stomach and the bedsheets again. Stuart pressed his lips on the sensitive skin a couple more times; he could never get tired of the taste. And the feeling of hope he had in his soul was overwhelming. He watched the bassist orgasm untouched, becoming a mess against the sheets of his bed. It was one hell of a sight for the eyes. Proceeding at a slow pace, he laid down completely on top of Murdoc. With the lack of distractions now, he had become aware of his own erection, and from seeing the man’s still stretched hole, he was painfully hungry for more.

“Are you still sore or can I pound your bastard arse into the mattress ?” The younger man’s voice was dripping with lust. 

“Yes…”

The bassist’s answer didn’t make sense, but it was all Stuart needed. In one movement, the younger buried himself deep into Murdoc’s hole, both men groaning in the process. The pleasure was too much to take. The younger thrusted fast, however remaining gentle with his partner. Murdoc’s hand went to the singer’s hip, bringing him closer, and Stuart brought his arm around the other’s waist. They were making love for the first time. Stuart picked up the pace, earning a few moans from the bassist.

“Hm… Yea… That’s my Murdoc.”

Their next moment could easily be called the breakfast after. It wasn’t like they had other options; the two men were stuck together. But again, why ? Why did the man bring the singer with him ? That is exactly what Stuart asked his bandmate as they ate at the dining table. It brought down Murdoc’s mood, evidently, even though he knew this conversation was… inevitable.

“We can talk honestly now. So why don’t you tell me ?”

The man sat there, staring aimlessly at his cereals floating around in the milk. He was growing tired of eating the same thing everyday. He wished he had thought it out more clearly before coming here, however it was never like he had had a lot of time. He let out a long sigh; he never wanted to explain everything aloud, it hurt his soul just thinking about it. But right now, he wanted so badly to be able to make his singer happy. So after a few deep breaths, he began his explanation.

“The same men… Who tried to kill Noodle…”

A lump in his throat already. Fuck. This was a bad start. He didn’t dare look at Stuart in the eyes; he kept his gaze low, and away from the boy. And he used the word “try” since his paranoid brain loved to pretend, as a defense mechanism, there were chances the girl was alive. He managed to keep talking.

“Those same people… Well, especially one of them. Jimmy. He’s after me now.”

The younger wasn’t responding, but Murdoc could tell he was truly listening. His feet were brushing against his under the table again. That simple act gave him a slight burst of confidence.

“He wanted to be our guitarist, earlier on. I had promised him a role in one of our music videos, more recently...”

When he dared to look at the singer again, he saw the worry in his eyes, in his furrowed eyebrows. He briefly wondered what was on his mind right now. Did he hate him already ? No, that had been done a long time ago. The man sighed again, forcing the little hamster in his brain to get back to work.

“So when he didn’t get what he wanted, he got angry… That man has a lot of mental issues. And you know what happens when the two cross paths.”

Stuart quickly guessed the answer. “Desire for murder.”

“Exactly. And even I, as fucked up as I am, have never thought about killing anyone except myself.”

The last words came out naturally. Murdoc quickly noticed the change in emotions in Stuart’s eyes. He wondered if the boy’s profound worry for him was genuine care, or a brain malfunction. Probably both. He decided to go back to the main subject of the conversation.

“When I saw what he tried to do to Noodle… I could only guess what he was capable of. And I knew, that he knew, that… Going after you would bring me into his claws immediately.”

A hint of a smile formed on Stuart’s lips. “So… He knows you love me.”

If before Murdoc was lost in his own thoughts, preoccupied about saying the right thing at the right moment, he was now staring right back at his bandmate, anger practically bursting out of his eyes. He hated being confronted to his own feelings. He didn’t want to deal with any of them. They scared him. So, out of spite, he replied...

“I don’t love you, faceache.”

And the shock, the sadness on Stuart’s face, had been predictable. Murdoc just happened not to think ahead, this time. For the millionth time. He saw the younger’s slightly quivering lip, the water cornering his eyes. And his heart broke. It hurt his entire body, especially knowing he was the cause of the pain. Especially knowing he had said the three sacred words last night, while sober. As soon as the boy stood up and walked away, an instinctive panic invaded Murdoc’s mind.

“No, no- Stu…”

Stuart was indeed sad, but there was a hint of anger in his steps. In his clenched fists. In his teeth sinking into his lip. In the rage boiling his brain. Yes, he was angry. He was so angry, it made him depressed. He always wished so badly for his relationship with Murdoc to be good. To be normal. But he knew it could never be like that. He heard the older man’s words as he turned the corner to exit the kitchen. He didn’t look back.

“Don’t go.”

The bassist didn’t have the motivation, nor the energy, to go after the boy. As he said that last sentence, still sitting powerlessly at the dining table, it reminded him of the real reason why he brought Stuart here with him. He needed him to be the singing voice on the album. He needed him to make music. He needed him. Period. And for a long time, he never thought of it as mutual. But then there was last night, and earlier that morning. Stuart’s hands on his skin. Stuart’s lips on his neck. Stuart’s moans in his ear. As the thoughts crossed his mind, he wandered for a moment.


	8. VIII

The two of them hadn’t talked, nor seen each other, since their morning conversation. But later on during the day, Murdoc gained enough energy to start looking for his singer. He was walking through a corridor when he saw the boy, passing by a few meters away from him. Fuck second guessing. The bassist walked up to him, cupping his face as he slammed his lips onto his. When the boy let him slide his tongue into his mouth, he slowly pushed him against the wall. All that could be heard in the corridor was their heavy breathing, and Stuart’s occasional moans. It drove Murdoc crazy. 

The older man pulled away, talking almost out of breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing…”

“Yeah ? Well keep going…” The singer hurriedly responded, his eyes glued to the other’s lips.

“I’d be nothing without you Stu…”

This time the singer leaned in first. His long fingers went through Murdoc’s black locks, massaging slightly. Next time the older man spoke, he was interrupted a couple of times by quick, hungry kisses. He knew the sod couldn’t stay mad at him for long. That’s why he needed to shake him back to reality, no matter how much he wanted the opposite.

“And you… Without me you were, ngh... doing so well… You had a girlfriend-”

The boy interrupted in annoyance. “I don’t care. About my girlfriends, Murdoc.”

Stuart had suddenly stopped all of his actions, and it practically made Murdoc touch deprived. For a thirty something year old man, he couldn’t get any more pathetic. Pushing his thoughts away, as he did best, he listened and looked back while the singer made eye contact with him.

“All this time we were apart, I always caught myself wondering… what you were up to... why you weren’t picking up my calls... I even thought about you once when I was having sex…”

It surprised the bassist, but he didn’t let it show. He also didn’t let the thought of Stuart having sex with a woman- or another man; hell, he had no idea- consume his mind. He kept on trying to listen, no matter how persistent the voices in his head were starting to get.

“But… I didn’t like the kidnapping thing.”

That’s it. It was too late. The voices wouldn’t shut up now. See, he hates you. You’re nothing good to him. You’re just a burden in his life. Be nice for once and make it easier for everyone. Since they started talking he had tried his best to keep calm, but now it seemed impossible. Drown in the sea. It’s in your name. You’re meant for it.

“I know you regret it too, Muds. That’s how I know you have a good heart.” Stuart’s voice was soothing, making the bassist yearn for sleep. 

“I don’t. I’m a monster.” Murdoc replied tiredly.

The younger insisted. “No… You have good in you. You just need to learn… How to make use of it.”

Even with all the invading thoughts, he made one controlled action: looking up in the singer’s eyes. But the blackened orbs only reminded him of the countless mistakes he had done. Of the horrid treatment he had forced on the boy. Of the danger he was still in, just by being in Murdoc’s presence. Of the impossibility of a normal relationship with him.

“We can try… To get better, you and me… Would you like that, Murdoc ?”

The voices were louder. It’s never gonna happen you idiot. He doesn’t love you. You just fucked him in the head enough to make him think he needs you. Get out of his life. He deserves to be happy. You don’t.

Die.  
Die.  
DIE.

“... No.”

Murdoc ends up yelling again. Of course. Inevitable. Feeling completely powerless, it was the only choice he had, in his mind. To pretend he had control, power over something. Over someone. Hurriedly walking as far away from Stuart as he could, the older man fought the tears desperately. He lost the fight.


	9. IX

On a day just like any other, Stuart ends up finding Murdoc almost passed out on the kitchen floor. A couple of (empty ?) bottles surrounded him, vague spots painting the tiled floor, an uneasy mix of crushed cigarette ends, small puddles of cheap vodka. The younger had gotten out of his room from an empty stomach, but now he wasn’t so hungry anymore. He stepped in the room cautiously.

“Murdoc-”

“Go away, D.”

The bassist’s tone seemed full of hurt, still with a hint of menace. The boy didn’t let it get to him. He tried taking a few more steps, only resulting in Murdoc throwing an empty bottle at him. Fortunately, he missed his shot and the bottle crashed on the wall behind Stuart. The singer flinched and jumped at the sound.

The older man, however, didn’t move an inch. “Get away from me before I hurt you.”

“You won’t.” The younger spoke as he was getting a hold of himself after the sudden shock.

Of course, Stuart didn’t believe his own words. At all. But he knew his bandmate really needed someone to trust him right now. And if he showed Murdoc that he believed in him, maybe it would help the bassist change. Step by step. He took a few more steps (speaking of which), but kept a distance.

The older man’s hoarse voice sounded like he was close to death. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Stu…”

The singer chose his words carefully. “You could start by giving up alcohol…”

“... I wish we could... talk.” Almost in a haze, the drunken man’s response had nothing to do with Stuart’s previous one. 

The boy still went with it, not ready for another tantrum. “... Then let’s talk.”

They sat next to each other, but they weren’t exactly next to each other. Murdoc was sitting in his room, on the floor, the side of his knee grazing at the door. Which was locked. Stuart put the batch of keys in his jean pocket, as he sat on the other side of the door, on the floor in the hallway. This way, they could talk without the risk of Murdoc hurting Stuart. The old man had to admit he would have never thought about this solution before. It slightly hurt his ego just to know the boy had been smarter than him this time, even with a strongly damaged brain.

As he sat there, knees bent, an almost empty bottle in his hand, Murdoc stared at the ceiling, his head tilted. He was relieved, because the voices in his head had finally shut up; they always did when he drank heavily. However there was still this indescribable depression that never seemed to want to leave him. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to. He had always had it in him, it practically made him who he was, how he showed himself to other people. He didn’t really know what he was without it. Usually these kinds of thoughts would have resulted in a panic attack, but right now, the man felt like his thoughts and his body were light years apart.

“Murdoc…”

Just hearing Stuart’s voice made the bassist a little happier. He bit his lip, with half lidded eyes and a crooked smile, almost like a stupid teenager in love. He pressed the side of his face against the door, along with his free hand.

“Yeeeess, blue bird…”  
“... You said you wanted to talk.”

Oh, right. Murdoc didn’t move, only lowering his gaze as he processed the information. It was almost like he could feel the little wheels turning in his brain. He chuckled at that thought. Reaching for his bottle, he realized he had spilled what was left of it on the floor. Groaning in annoyance, he turned around slightly, resting the back of his head on the door.

“Yea, but… It’s getting harder to think…” The older mumbled, emotionless.

Stuart was trying his best not to worry too much. After all, he couldn’t let Murdoc out, at least not tonight. When he heard a thud on the door, he didn’t let paranoia get the best of him. Almost. Hearing the bassist answer him however was a slight relief.

Assuming it was the right time to talk, the singer brought his knees to his chest, a finger tapping on a knee, a teeth chewing on a lip. “Well… I’ll start easy… What am I to you, Murdoc ?”

Every word the older man heard was still rough to process. Did the sod really wanted him to confront his emotions, right now, almost passed out drunk ? He guessed it was the only way to have him talk honestly; as soon as Murdoc understood the question, the answer was vomited out of his mouth. He would hate himself later on for being so naively honest. Blame the alcohol.

“You’re… Everything.”

Stuart’s brows knitted together, his fidgeting never stopping. “How so ?”

“You’re the reason for our success… You’re the reason I write… The reason I’m still alive…” The bassist was now giving clear answers, his voice hoarse, exhausted.

The honesty gave a slight joy to the younger man. “You’re the reason I’m still alive too.”

Murdoc chuckled. “Funny, huh ?”

The two men both smiled on their sides of the door. For a second, Murdoc was invaded by this intense need for closeness. He turned towards the door, pressing his hand on the door again. Closing his eyes to pretend they weren’t separated right now. It was odd how they weren’t that far from each other, but the bassist felt like he was miles away from his singer.

Murdoc swallowed with difficulty. “Stu…”

“What ?” On his side, Stuart replied with patience. He wasn’t aware of the overwhelming despondence the other was feeling right now. 

Shutting his eyes closed, the older didn’t listen to second thoughts. “Don’t let me die…”

The singer’s finger started tapping faster on his knee. “Why would I ?”

“They… They want me dead…”

“Who does, Murdoc ?”

The older man let out all his paranoid thoughts. There was nothing else he could find to do. “I don’t know… I heard them… They’re always talking to me…”

Right at those words, Stuart was immediately in panic mode. He hated to admit it to himself, but Murdoc hearing voices in his head made him a lot more dangerous than he usually was. And just from memories of kicks in his stomach, punches in his face, hand pressing around his neck, glass pieces in his feet… The boy put a hand on his mouth, the tears coming up way too easily. He despised this. With a passion. He wished he could make it all go away. Disappear.

“Stu… Stuart…”

From hearing his real name being said by Murdoc, the singer was almost brainwashed for a second. His thoughts went from violence to love. To their night together. The older man’s vulnerability. The three scared words they both said. For a second, Stuart thought the bassist meant it when he said it back, that it was never his intention to hurt him… He stood up as he listened to his bandmate.

“I… I’m not gonna hurt ya… Open the door… I uh… Wanna feel ya…”

The temptation was incredibly strong. And the singer let it get to him, his hand fiddling in his pocket to find the keys. The tears were slowly drying on his cheeks. When he grabbed the keys out, Murdoc could hear the familiar clicking sound on the other side of the door. He smirked wide.

“Yeah… That’s it, blue bird. Let your boyfriend out.”

Stuart was on his feet now, searching desperately and messily for the right key. And the infamous word almost had him completely under Murdoc’s spell. When he was finally pushing the key in, the bassist pressed both of his hands on the door in a pressing manner, yelling encouraging words to his singer.

“Good boy. You’re a good boy. So good to me, Stu…”

As he was about to turn the key in the hole, Stuart felt an odd sting in the crook of his neck. With that came immediate mental images. The older man smiling over him. The feeling of a cheap mattress’s metal structure cracking under his bones. The overwhelming white lights. Needles. Good boy. Sting. You’re such a good boy. Too many needles. Black. The earlier days of Plastic Beach. His heartbeat picked up, and he stopped all of his actions. He always tried his absolute best to trust the bassist, but sometimes his best wasn’t enough against his own brain. It was almost as damaged as Murdoc’s, even if he tried. He couldn’t succeed.

On his side, the older man noticed the sudden silence. “Come on, pretty boy. Open the door…”

Stuart closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against the door. He knew what he had to do. He didn’t want it, he wanted anything but this. But it had to be done. Slowly he pulled back the key, burying the batch in his pocket again. 

Murdoc had heard everything, of course. His heartbeat went for a marathon. His breath quickly picked up; it made speaking a lot harder. “Wha- Stu… No… What are you doing ??”

On his side, Stuart was feeling the stress as well. However he managed to keep a steady breath. “I can’t… let you out, right now, Muds…”

The older man felt betrayed. “Wh-... Wha-”

“You’re drunk. I can’t let you near me.”

Even with the grand amounts of alcohol in his system, Murdoc felt his heart ache terribly. Almost like it broke in pieces and stopped working. He felt the ascension of a devastating wave of depression, along with a painful ping of anger. He had to let out the pressure somewhere.

So he pressed his fists on the door, a series of begs spitted out from his throat. “Stu. Please. No. Don’t do this. I love you. I love you so much.”

The younger man was still on the other side, standing still, biting his lip to hold back tears. It didn’t work. He choked back a sob, especially from hearing the repeated three words…  
Murdoc fucking Niccals. Telling him he loved him. 

Stuart swallowed accumulated saliva, taking a breath to gather himself to speak again. “I’ll come get you when you sober up.”

The realization hit the bassist quicker than lightspeed. “No. Please, pleaaaase… Stu you can’t do this to me… You cant-”

As he spoke, Murdoc gradually realized the singer was leaving him. He recognized the muffled sound of his steps. And the lack of his presence. He stood up suddenly, yelling and banging on the door with his fists.

“Stu. Come back. Come back. Please. I need you. Stuart.”

The words were louder and louder, but Stuart didn’t turn around, he didn’t look back. He walked away, choosing to spend the night in his room, with the door closed to not hear the screaming. As he walked, he let all the tears out, sobbing loudly, hands going to pull his hair. He was certain that he was slowly going insane.

When Murdoc realized his battle was already lost, he turned around, catching his breath as he slid to the floor, his back against the door. He was still angry, yes, but mostly sad. Sad that he had given the boy a large part of his trust, which was one of the most difficult things he had ever done for someone in his life. He had never known how to trust anybody but himself. And now that he had been wanting to change, Stuart was pushing him away. Locking him out because he didn’t trust him back. Not like he deserved to be trusted anyway...

Vague thoughts of his treatment on Stuart surfaced in his mind, and he cried, oh he cried violently, and it wasn’t pretty. His nose was running, the tears were flowing. His face was red from screaming. A thin line of saliva dripped out of his mouth as his forehead pressed against the dirty carpet. The loneliness was the most painful of it all. Gradually, he curled himself up in a ball on the floor, sobbing quietly as his exhaustion drifted him off to sleep. It wasn’t the best night on the island.


	10. X

The next morning, Stuart woke up, alone in his own bed. Feeling like he hadn’t slept at all. Everything in his body ached, especially his head, for which he swallowed a couple of pills from the bottle on his nightstand. He was suddenly reminded of Murdoc as he put on a pair of pajama pants. Muttering a quiet fuck to himself, he rushed to grab the keys from his dirty jeans, open the door and walk out of his room. He completely forgot about putting a shirt on.

Arrived at the door to Murdoc’s room, he stopped, hesitant. The rush of energy from seconds ago seemed to have disappeared from his body. He couldn’t hear a sound from the other side of the door. Awfully torn, he gave a weak knock on the door.

“Hey, Muds…”

In his room, the older man had heard him clearly. He slowly stood up, in the same jeans and shirt from yesterday, in front of the door, ready to jump at the singer. When the door was opened, Murdoc saw the horrified look on his bandmate’s face, and immediately he grabbed him by his neck, since he oddly didn’t have a shirt on. He didn’t let it distract him.

The boy felt his breath pick up as he tried to fight back. “Murdoc, ngh- Let me go…”

The bassist’s brows furrowed, in frustration, mostly. His eyes glued to his singer. “Who the hell do you think you are ?”

Stuart was shoved on the wall, struggling against Murdoc’s hold. He knew the man was hungover, so, of course, he wanted to give him a chance. However he couldn’t help but feel extreme anger towards the bassist. He gritted his teeth as he felt the other’s morning breath on his face. It oddly turned him on.

The older man tightened his grip. “You think you can do this to me ? On my damn island ?”

Stuart was immediately defensive. He was even angrier when the blame was put on him. “... For fuck’s sake, Murdoc I let you out-”

The bassist let out a spiteful chuckle. “You really thought you could boss me around huh ? Well newsflash blue boy, I’m the one in control here.” 

The singer was still having a hard time to breathe, his hands having gone around Murdoc’s wrists as a failed attempt to free himself. But when he heard that the older man thought he had control on him, he couldn’t help but laugh. Only inside though. On the outside, he only stopped struggling, looking straight into the other’s mismatched eyes.

“Are you, really ?”

He watched entertained as Murdoc’s facial expressions slightly changed, his gaze furtive for a millisecond. When he looked back at the boy, the bassist was trying his hardest to keep his facade on. After last night’s realizations, he needed to stop showing his weaknesses to the boy.

Stuart’s voice tone had something acid, of revenge. “You drink because of me… You cry because of me…”

“Stop it.” Murdoc’s instinctive response, of course.

“You hurt me because you love me… It’s always about me, right Mudsie ?” The boy rarely was this sinister with his bandmate.

The older’s heartbeat picked up. He felt like he would explode any minute. “Stop talking. Now.”

Murdoc noticed the young man’s slight flinch at his behavior. Stuart could try to taunt him all he wanted, for too long he had been pushed down by the bassist. It would be tough to even begin getting back up. And as much as he wanted to hug the boy, tell him everything was alright and that he was sorry, he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t.

So as the distance was closed between them and that, with his hands, Stuart clung to Murdoc desperately, the bassist snaked his arm in the back of the singer’s pants. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue in the boy’s mouth to reach for the keys subtly. With a punch and a kick, Stuart was on the floor, and Murdoc was gone.


	11. XI

It was late evening when the blue boy was confronted with another routinely dilemma. He had been in his room for a while now, and he had no intention of getting out of it. He knew Murdoc was drinking again, he always did that when he left the boy alone. Last time they had a real talk… It didn’t go so well. Stuart was scared, scared of the older man, scared that he was scared of the older man. But every night when he went to bed, and closed his eyes, he was remembered of Murdoc’s warm red bed sheets, Murdoc’s scent of cigarettes and rum, Murdoc’s surprisingly soft skin… It always ended in a good cry. But over time he didn’t have much water left to cry out of his body. He was dried out, emotionally and physically. And because of that, he needed to eat.

It wasn’t like he wanted to. In the earlier days of Plastic Beach, Murdoc had starved him for a large amount of time. He kept telling himself the bassist had done it to keep him safe. However, this time, he had a full conscience on his side (last time he had been drugged heavily). Plus, there were chances that he wouldn’t cross paths with Murdoc if he simply went to the kitchen. When he walked out, he was surprised to see the sun was still setting down in the sky, lighting up the corridor in a dim, orange color. Feeling empty (literally), Stuart forced his feet to lead him to the kitchen.

He didn’t react when he saw his bandmate, sitting on one of the chairs, eating a plain sandwich. Inspecting the room for any trace of alcohol, he was suspicious when he didn’t find any. He didn’t smell any either when he sat down in the chair in front of Murdoc. As odd as it was, he caught himself breathing in a scent of soap, and fresh water. Almost as an instinct, their feet went brushing against each other under the table.

“Murdoc…”

When the older man looked up at him from his sandwich, Stuart noticed a spark to his eyes, and a calmness to his traits. It brought a sudden warmth to his chest to see his bandmate like this. The fear in his system was practically gone. However, as a habit, his brain was quick to tell him to stay guarded.

The singer took a breath. “I’m sorry for locking you in your room.”

Murdoc stared at him for a few seconds, only to go back to his sandwich. Then he stood up, walking up to Stuart’s seat, standing next to him. The piece of sandwich that was left in his hand was a little less than a half of a slice of bread. Noticing the boy had his head slightly tilted down, the older man brought it back up with a light pull at his hair. He heard a weak whimper from the singer. Keeping his palm on the back of his head, he brought the sandwich to Stuart’s mouth. He waited until the younger decided to part his lips to bring the piece closer, letting him bite on it.

As Stuart chewed on his food, his gaze low, Murdoc watched him, a hint of a smile on his face. “I’m sorry for punching you again, dullard.”

When the younger man took in the last bite of the sandwich in his mouth, Murdoc patted the back of his head, the thumb of his now empty hand grazing at his lower lip. He had been given the apology he wanted, sure. The nickname was a little unsettling, but he tried not paying too much attention to it. The gesture the older man had just done for him was sweet, especially for someone like... him.

When the boy realized that Murdoc was about to leave the room, he rushed himself to speak, still managing to make it sound casual. “What’ you been up to ?”

That was the dumbest question, but he knew the man loved being asked about himself. Seeing that he had turned around on the heels of his feet, now facing the singer, Stuart assumed his trick had worked. Even with the slight darkness of the room, he saw a smirk on the bassist’s face.

“Well, Stuart… I’ve been writing. A lot.”

The boy rose an eyebrow. “Songs ?”

“Yea. What else would I write…” There was a uncharacteristic lack of sarcasm in the older man’s words.

Stuart didn’t laugh. “How many drinks have you had ?”

“None.”

The older man looked at him straight in the eyes when he spoke. And he still wasn’t looking away. Dumbfounded, Stuart couldn’t manage to hide his confusion. He looked back at Murdoc, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips slightly parted. He heard a small chuckle from his bandmate.

“Believe me or not, I have no reason to lie to ya. It hasn’t been easy, but... y’know, when is it ever.”

Slowly standing up from his seat, Stuart walked up to the man. He tried his best to appear as if he knew what he was doing, but inside, the guilt was eating him alive. He knew exactly what it felt like to get hurt, and then to only get a sad excuse of an apology. He was scared. Scared of the influence Murdoc had on him. Scared they would end up beating each other to death. Figuratively. 

With a sigh, and all the courage he had left, he reached for the bassist’s hand. “I know saying sorry will never be enough…”

“Guess that calls for truce then.” A hint of a smirk on Murdoc’s lips.

The boy maintained eye contact. “This isn’t a competition, Murdoc... We’re on the same team.”

Stuart leaned in, gently pressing his lips onto the other man’s, softly kissing him. He was aware that locking Murdoc in his own room had probably hurt the trust in their relationship. Now he just needed to show his bandmate that he still relied on him. Deeply, for that matter. He felt a tighter hold on his hand.

Pulling away, he gave a light peck on the man’s lips. “Let me sing what you wrote.”

The two men spent most of the night in the studio room, on the floor, talking about music, revising lyrics, trying out chords, playing with the synthetiser. Murdoc didn’t drink one ounce through the whole time. It was unusual, yes, but the man had the feeling that he didn’t need any alcohol (for now). He laughed affectionately as he watched Stuart sing his heart out, eyes closed, head bobbing slowly, strands of his hair hanging loose on his forehead, between his eyes.

Well you can’t get what you want  
But you can get me  
So let’s set out to sea, love  
Cause you are my medicine  
When you’re close to me…

It was heaven to his ears. Pressing the button on the small recording machine to turn it off, he stared at his singer, emotions unreadable on his face.

Stuart, weirded out by the silence, ended up fluttering his eyes open, looking back at the bassist. “Those lines are lovely, Muds…”

“It’s all because of you, love.” Still no trace of emotions on the bassist’s face.

The boy realized Murdoc was telling the truth. It gave him a sudden wave of happiness. “You’re the best musician I know. ‘Has nothing to do with me.”

For the first time in a long time, Stuart saw Murdoc smile; a real, heartfelt smile. He smiled too, without thinking about it, as they both hurriedly leaned in for their lips to meet. The boy had a hand pressed to the floor, the older man holding onto him by the side of his arm. Their actions growing less and less controlled, Stuart ended up pushing the bassist down, following him in the process. When Murdoc’s body hit the floor with a thud, they pulled away, an honest laugh forming in both of their stomachs. They didn’t laugh for long before they were kissing again. For the few hours that were left of the night, the men ended up passed out from sleepiness on the studio floor.


	12. XII

What followed was a tougher time for them. Not the worst they had had, of course, but definitely a difficult one to handle on an island in the middle of the ocean. Having woken up on the wrong side of the bed, Murdoc growled in frustration as he tried to open an old box of cereals, on an early morning in the kitchen. He had found the box in the back of the cabinets when he had began searching for leftovers, as they were on the verge of running out of resources. The man’s long nails slipped against the material of the box as he felt the anger boiling up inside of him. After the realization of his definite failure, he screamed, throwing the box away. It landed on a wall first, the content of it splattering across the floor, its container joining quickly after.

A hand on his forehead, the bassist turned away from the counter, taking deep breaths to at least attempt to calm himself down. Stuart was sitting at the dining table behind him, and he didn’t want the boy to see him in the state he was now. Showing anger was fine to him, but his dignity was always deeply damaged every time he broke down in front of the person he loved the most.

“Murdoc, calm down.” The singer spoke calmly, but in the direct sentence hid a considerable amount of pent-up anger.

The bassist, fists clenched, breathed out sharply. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

Stuart kept his gaze on the other even if he had his back turned to him. “You could have asked me to help you out.” He had always been more resilient than his older companion.

“I don’t need your bloody help.” Murdoc’s teeth gritted, his nails digged in his palms, threatening to bruise.

Lately, he had been on edge; he knew Jimmy and his men were going to find them soon. The bassist had once mentioned Point Nemo when they used to converse once every friday night. Soon, they wouldn’t have anything to eat, and he was fully aware that it was his fault. He didn’t plan this well, he didn’t even think it through before kidnapping Stuart. Just thinking about it made his stomach churn. The fact that he was happy to have the singer here with him invited puke up his throat. He was always so selfish; but sometimes he liked it that way.

Anytime him and Stuart needed to work together, Murdoc always found a reason to push it away. Then he would spend days and nights alone in his room, writing, drinking, smoking,... Anything to forget. Forget that he was an asshole who had no idea what to do to survive this. Forget that he had the world’s most beautiful creature in his building, that he would never deserve to own. Forget that his whole life was a mess… Forget that he was becoming his dad-

Throwing another sheet to the trash, the older man put down his pencil, bringing two fingers between his eyebrows, pressing lightly. The sobs came on their own, and so did the tears. It was so easy to be sad. It was easier than to actually deal with his actions. But he didn't like it. Crying made him feel weak. Crying made him feel empty.

Settling for sleeping it off, he swallowed a few more pills before lazily standing up. A few steps later and he slumped on his bed, face first. Breathing in, he noticed a slight hint of Stuart’s scent still present in the fabric. He breathed in again, this time deeper. It would be heaven on Earth if the younger man slept with him every night. Vague images surfaced through his mind, from a hand on his backside to a warm breath on his neck. He inhaled the intoxicating scent another time; hell, he could get high off of this.


	13. XIII

Next morning. Stepping out of his room, Stuart yawned, knowing very well he had overslept. Hearing the sound of pouring water from the bathroom, he assumed Murdoc had decided to take a shower. Even though that action from the older man was uncharacteristic, he quickly brushed it off, sighing of relief as he started heading to the studio. However, he didn’t brush it off when he heard a more unusual sound, still coming from the bathroom. Turning around, he tiptoed back to the bathroom door, pressing his ear on it. His heart hurt when he noticed the noises sounded like sobs.

Hesitantly, but willingly, he slowly opened the door, which creaked in the process. When he took a peak with one of his eyes, he saw the bassist under the water, his forehead pressed against the wall in front of him. His palms rushed to his face as the sobs and the sniffs grew louder. He had noticed how distant the older man had been lately. Maybe it was better to leave him alone for a while. Pushing away his doubts, Stuart walked in, his steps cautious.

“Murdoc…” He whispered, but still loud enough to be heard through the shower noise.

Closing the door behind him, he observed the older man. If he had heard Stuart speak, he wasn’t showing it at all. The boy walked all the way up to the slightly blurred glass separating the shower to the rest of the room. And him and Murdoc. He pressed a hand on the glass, waiting for a response. Still nothing. He sighed.

Gathering all of his strength, Stuart slid his pajama pants off, tossing them in a corner. His boxers and shirt soon followed. Still cautiously, he stepped into the shower. Every sob he heard broke his heart to pieces. He didn’t know how he was still alive right now. But he was thankful that he could do this. Stepping closer to the bassist, he wrapped his arms around his waist. Not getting a reaction, he rested his head on the man’s shoulder, pushing away strands of black hair on the side of his neck. Then, he leaned in, pressing his lips on the soft skin, gentle as ever.

Murdoc was in agony. The tears wouldn’t stop; he kept choking on them. It was like all control he had left on his own body was taken away from him. He deeply despised feeling powerless. It reminded him of the days spent in his father’s home, only being able to drink the pain away. And cry. He didn’t want to feel like this anymore. A simple touch from the singer slightly calmed his panic. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his arm, resting a hand on top of Stuart’s. He took a deep breath, feeling the boy’s breath on his ear.

“Whatever’s troubling you, I’m here.” The singer’s angelic whispers were like a lifeline saving him from drowning.

The older man let himself be held for a few minutes. He wasn’t sure how to address the subject with Stuart without risking to lose him forever. Every time he thought about it, a lump formed in the back of his throat, and he couldn’t say another word. Multiple times, he had tried to gather himself to do it, and every single time he failed.

Feeling overflowed with emotions, Murdoc blinked the tears away. “I don’t wanna lose you, Stu.”

Stuart kept on kissing the bassist’s neck, pulling him closer to his body with his arms. As soon as he did so, Murdoc turned around, and their lips met, hungrily, desperately. But unhurriedly, and lovingly. The boy still had his arms around his bandmate, the other pressing a hand on the back of his neck. He could feel the man’s deep sadness through his touches; it only made him long for more. If they were to spend a long time together on this island, they should at least learn to communicate.

Pulling away, staring at Murdoc’s reddened lips, Stuart turned the shower off. “Let’s talk. For real this time.”

Unclothed, wrapped in satin sheets, the men were both laying down on their back, staring at the ceiling. Murdoc brought a cigarette to his lips, praying to Satan it would take his anxiety down a notch. However, it didn’t seem to do much. It bothered him, since usually he was able to force his brain into forgetting anything; now, the problems he would have to face were haunting him down to the very core of his system. And it surely wasn’t planning to leave anytime soon. Stuart noticed the older man’s visibly worsening mental state, evidently. He had wanted, for a long time now, an honest talk with the bassist, and right now was probably the closest he could get to it.

After a cloud of cigarette smoke, he heard his bandmate take a breath. “It’s them. They’re coming.”

The boy turned his head to look at the older man. On a pillow, they seemed to be the same height. But Murdoc’s feet grazing his leg reminded him otherwise.

“Who ?” The boy asked genuinely.

“Jimmy. And a whole bloody lot of underpaid men.” Stuart saw the older man’s nose ruffle when he mentioned the cursed name. So he opted for silence as a response.

Then suddenly Murdoc turned his head to him. “Remember when I last talked to you about this ?”

He locked his dark eyes into mismatched ones. “Yes ?”

But the bassist lost eye contact, his gaze furtive. “I’ve always known they would come someday. And now that the day is coming…”

Stuart found himself a little panicked by the realization. So, in instinct, he rolled on his right side, snuggling closer to Murdoc. Wrapping an arm around the older man’s waist, he used his free hand to caress the other’s cheek. It terrified him to think about the possibility, in the worst circumstances, to die on this very island. However, he would choose to die by Murdoc’s side over anything. As he whispered sweet nothings in the bassist’s ear, he saw the bassist bring his hands to his face, again, just like he had done, alone in the shower.

The man’s voice was shaky. And low. “I don’t know what to do, I… I’m the one who brought you into this mess. And now here I am, having absolutely no fucking idea what to do. To save you.”

But this time he wasn’t alone. After a deep sigh to attempt to relax, Stuart took Murdoc’s chin between his fingers, turning his head around to kiss him. The realization of the older man’s unusual honesty had his heart skipping a beat. Resting a thumb on the bassist’s cheek, he felt the wetness of the tears, and the warmth of the skin.

He forced himself to pull away only because they were supposed to have a real talk. “Don’t put all this weight on yourself, Murdoc… We’re doing this together.”

Kissing the older man’s forehead, he brought his fingers into black strands of hair, examining his partner closely. There were no emotions readable on the bassist’s face, but deductions could be made from the redness of his lips, the puffiness of his eyes, the wet lines on his cheeks. Overrun with affection, the younger man gave a few more pecks to Murdoc’s lips, slightly biting on the lower one.

The other wrapped a hand around his wrist, suddenly guarded. “How can you still trust me ? After all the shit I’ve done…”

The boy thought for a moment before giving an answer. “... I believe in change. For the better.” And he chose well.

Murdoc rolled around to completely face Stuart, wrapping his arms around the lanky man as they kissed sloppily. Tons of questions were running around in his mind, but as soon as the singer touched him, all the worry was gone. What was this paradise ? Wasn’t he supposed to end up in hell ? Groaning against the other’s mouth, he felt their legs entwine. He could never thank the dullard enough. He still attempted to.

“Thank you... Thank you… Thank you…” The older man repeated in a low voice between the boy’s quick kisses. It was all he could manage to do. Even if it would never be enough.

The singer’s words came out softly, his voice low. “Don’t mention it.”

Murdoc couldn’t help but chuckle at Stuart’s response, before they resumed their ardent make out session, hands all over each other’s skin. In the heat of the moment, the younger man went to harshly grab Murdoc’s thigh, lifting up slightly. Doing so, their bodies were closer than they already were, if that was even possible.

Heartbeat racing, the bassist slowly pulled away, chuckling the embarrassment away as he rolled around on his back. “You’re way too stupid to be alive.”

The older man grabbed a cigarette again, along with a lighter. Stuart watched him, love still visible through his eyes. Slowly, he rolled around to hover on top of Murdoc’s body. Their faces were incredibly close when the bassist breathed out the smoke. Still proceeding slowly, the singer pressed two fingers between the cigarette; Murdoc let him take it. When he gave it back to the older man, the younger wrapped a hand around the other’s member, massaging it in slow strokes. Blowing out smoke as he tilted up his head, the bassist laughed almost mischievously, smiling wide.

“Bluue biiiird…”

They kissed again after Murdoc put out the cigarette on the bed sheets, Stuart’s hand still around the man’s length. Growling in appreciation, the bassist gradually let his worry disappear. He knew there was no point in destroying himself with a situation he had no power on. But as he felt the singer’s skin on his, he couldn’t help but already feel nostalgic for the years they could have spent together. Suddenly feeling possessive, Murdoc clung to the younger man desperately, his arms around his neck.

He panted heavily when he pulled away. “From now on… You sleep in here… Every night, no exceptions.”

“I’m not gonna pretend I’m against that.” Stuart murmured against the other’s neck, a little playful but still honest. 

On his side, Murdoc was still anxious. “Stu…”

If the boy had previously lowered his head to Murdoc’s neck to invade it with kisses, he was now looking back at his bandmate, listening closely.

“There’s nowhere we can be safe… This is the best I could do-” The words rushed out but he was quickly cut off by the singer.

“Hey, I get it. No hard feelings.”

Calming down slightly, the bassist breathed. “I wish I could be... what you are to me.”

He noticed Stuart reacting more to his last words. Keeping eye contact, the boy resumed his previous handjob. There was something affectionate in his actions. More affectionate than passionate. Murdoc’s breath slightly picked up as he listened to his singer’s heavenly words.

“You are. When you’re like this… Beautiful, honest, willing to be… vulnerable.”

The younger man grabbed his own length with the other’s, stroking both simultaneously. He moaned against the bassist’s lips, their pre-cum serving as lubricant. He felt Murdoc slowly wrap his legs around his waist. He stopped his actions to focus on giving the man the best kiss of his whole life of multiple sexual partners. He was about to give him the best sex, too.

Stuart was surprised when he felt Murdoc’s hole already stretched out around his member. He’d been practicing. The thought almost took him to the edge as he thrusted himself fully into the older man, panting heavily. He felt hands on the back of his neck, and pulsions around his length. They locked eyes, and after, they never looked away. The bassist noticed he wasn’t moving.

“Fuck me, faceache.”

His words, through his voice, were intoxicating. With full adoration, Stuart grabbed the older man’s thighs as he thrusted back and forth, unhurriedly. Rewarded by Murdoc’s pleased groans, he picked up the pace, still mesmerized by mismatched eyes.

“Satan, Stu I missed ya…”

“I was never gone, silly.”

The younger man went to lightly sink his teeth in the crook of Murdoc’s neck as he made love to him. His hunger reached a peak when he heard the bassist’s loud moan, from the tip of his length hitting his prostate, and his teeth drawing blood through his skin. Locking eyes again, Stuart fastened his thrusts as he felt his soul ascend higher and higher, his heart still pressed against the love of his life’s. They reached orgasm almost simultaneously, Murdoc’s fingers buried in blue strands of hair, Stuart’s teeth on his lower lip. They fell asleep in the arms of each other.


	14. XIV

What could have been a newly blossoming in the early days of spring had been brought down by a violent wind, followed by the cruel destruction by a lightning strike. From an overpowering impulse, Murdoc had inflicted pain on his singer, a pain he wasn’t sure could be forgiven. Nothing he had done could be forgiven, anyway. Sure, in the earlier days of their journey isolated from the world, a simple lie would have been considered normal, almost nice for the old man in Stuart’s perspective. But things had changed since the last time they had sex, and for the first time, the singer thought he could fully trust Murdoc, and that the bassist could fully trust him. That the dysfunction in their relationship was starting to wash out. Droplets of water sliding down the glass, later smashed away by an aggressive wave.

“I fucking hate you.”

The words had slipped out of his mouth. Again, overpowering impulse. They were almost uncontrollable in the older man’s mind. As much as he had been working for change, there was still a whole lot of damage to repair. Pushing the key in, he heard desperate punches against the door.

“Murdoc ! What are you doing- Let me out. Murdoc, let me out !”

Brows furrowed, eyes watery, almost childlike quivering lip, Murdoc stood there, the key in his hand, which was still reached out towards the door. He listened to every thud, every scream, evey cry.

“Let me out !”

—

Earlier in the day. The sky was covered by fast moving gray clouds, warning an evening storm. His back slammed against the kitchen counter, Murdoc brought a hand to Stuart’s cheek as they kissed fervently, breathing heavily through their nose. The younger man had his hands in the other’s hair, messing up the brushed strands of the previous night’s unusual clean up. When the bassist slipped his tongue in Stuart’s mouth, the younger pulled away quickly.

“Slow down you kinky fucker, remember we gotta make breakfast…”

Murdoc groaned in annoyance when the singer pulled away, leaving him for a piece of bread to bring into the toaster. He grasped the other’s hand to kiss it quickly before he headed to the dining table. Just imagining the blue boy and him in a beautiful house making pancakes late in the morning brought a strong wave of sadness in his soul. And he was beginning to grow tired of feeling this way all the time. Trying his best to brush it off, the bassist went to sit on one of the chairs when he heard the younger speak to him. 

“Murdoc… What’s this ?”

Rummaging through the kitchen’s cabinets and drawers, Stuart had found a bag which stood out from the rest of their possessions. Bringing it up on the counter, he saw Murdoc turn livid as the boy asked him the question.

“I, uh…”

Not waiting for a response, the younger man opened the bag through a zipper, examining its content. A fishing rod, a few cans of beans, superficial clothing, a knife, a flashlight,... Lips parted, he felt the panic invade his entire being. Soon his heart was racing and his previous sadness was replaced by anger. He saw Murdoc walk up to him but he backed away.

“Stu, I can explain-”

“I don’t want your explanation.”

Stunned by Stuart’s uncharacteristic dry tone, Murdoc didn’t say anything for a minute. He was now seeing the singer as he used to know him, frightened and guarded. It broke his heart, since surprisingly he still had one. And it made him feel like all the progress they had made in their relationship had been erased, like they were back at square one. He had disappointed a lot of people in his life, but it had never bothered him so much. Before he could speak, his bandmate started freaking out.

“You wanted to escape ?? Without me ?”

Searching for the right answer, the bassist stumbled on his words. “You seriously think I would leave you here ?”

“If you wanted me to come, then why the hell did you never tell me about your plan ?” The singer was raising his voice.

That’s it. He was trapped. The older man was silent again, his gaze furtive, but his expressions still showing anger. He didn’t know if he should be mad at the boy for being too curious, or at himself for not hiding his things well. He didn’t want Stuart to know.

Taking a deep breath, the older man gathered all of his strength to say the truth. “Fine… You got me. My plan was to leave... on my own.”

Before he could further his explanation, Murdoc saw the younger man turn around, hands in his hair, holding back a sob. How he wished everything could be simple. Normal.

He took a few steps towards the boy, hoping he could still reach out to him. “My plan... was to bring Jimmy’s attention, and the others, to me. As a diversion. To keep you safe.”

“I can’t believe you.” Stuart’s words almost sounded like an automatic response.

A sting in Murdoc’s chest. “Oh, what now. You’re mad at me for wanting to sacrifice myself for you ?”

“You would be correct.” The boy’s words were full of bitterness.

When Stuart headed back to his room, Murdoc followed, calling after the younger man desperately. Wait. Stu, wait. Don’t go. It itched his conscience to be overly aware of his strong dependency on someone else. Calling the singer’s full name and he had his attention again, Stuart turning to him on the heels of his feet. They both stopped walking, even though Stuart was in his room, Murdoc only a few steps away from the door.

“Stu… I-”

“Shut it.” At this point, the younger growing mentally exhausted of fighting, however he still kept his sayings stone cold. And surprisingly, Murdoc listened to him. A few seconds of silence. Silence aside from the raindrops on the hallway windows.

Fumbling to find the right explanation, the words came out messy from Stuart’s brain. “I’m… I’m tired of your…self-destructive.. nature-”

“It’s not my nature.” At this point, the bassist was desperately trying to win the other back. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

If he was avoiding the older man’s gaze, Stuart was now eyeing him aggressively. His feet glued to the cracked wood of the floor. “That just proves my point.”

Murdoc wondered if those words were said out of impulse, or if they were really what the singer thought of him. As he stood there dumbfounded, he leaned in towards the entrance of the room, his hand pressed on the doorframe. There was something in him that wanted to try, at least try, to end the fight.

He was quickly brought out of his own thoughts when he heard the singer speak, this time slightly calmer. “I thought you changed, Murdoc.”

Mouth opened in shock, Murdoc seemed almost hurried to respond. “I DID change, Stu I would literally die for you !”

“Why are you still looking for death ?” Oh, so the boy was going straight to the point now. Lowering his gaze, the older man struggled to find the words, once again. He hated these kinds of questions. 

“Can’t you see that you are loved ?” Even from his singer, the word was always a trigger to Murdoc. He flinched immediately.

“Nobody asked you to love me. I don’t deserve any of the things you gave me.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care.” The younger man felt his heart hurting suddenly. So much rejection from the person he loved (and hated) the most.

Stuart began pacing in his room, hands in his hair again, biting hard on his own lip, anything to keep sane. If he even still had any sanity in him. For a second, the anger in him washed away, overcome by another wave of exhaustion. He really didn’t feel like fighting anymore. He wanted to forgive Murdoc, forgive the bastard, and just keep encouraging him to get better. That was what they both needed, right ?

The boy stopped pacing. “I love you, Murdoc. Don’t you love me ?”

Looking in the other’s eyes, the older man caught himself weakening. He saw the true, deep affection in Stuart’s black irises. Part of him was telling him to let go of his trauma, to just go and comfort the boy, for once. He flinched again at the infamous question. Because he knew he loved Stuart. He had for a long, long time now. And ever since then, a disturbing agony had installed itself in his heart. He never thought about it too much, but when he did, it annoyed him to his very core that he let someone control him so easily. His fist clenched as voices popped up in his head. You’re so pathetic. What did we say about getting attached to people ? Hurt him before you get hurt. It was so, so easy to listen to that voice.

“No. I fucking hate you.”

And the rest is history. After slamming the door closed, Murdoc furiously brought the batch of keys out of his jeans, finding the one for Stuart’s bedroom right away, with habituation. The clicking sound was joined by aggressive punches on the door; the younger man had ran for his life towards the door as soon as it was closed.

“Murdoc ! What are you doing- Let me out. Murdoc, let me out !”

The older man heard every word. His feet seemed frozen to the ground as he realized he had betrayed Stuart once again. He blinked once or twice before turning around, resolving himself to finally leave.

“Murdoc…”

He stopped immediately. He could only imagine what the boy was feeling just by hearing one word from him. His voice was hoarse from yelling and crying, Murdoc’s name split by a choked sob. On his side, Stuart rested his forehead against the door, every tear falling to the ground, his sobs growing louder.

The older man whispered to himself as his conscience switched sides. “Stu...”

Hurrying back to the door, he fumbled with the keys to find the right one again. As he did so, deep, odd sounds began echoing through the building. He didn’t pay any attention to them as he opened the door. Stuart had walked away from it, concluding with himself he had lost for today. The simple creaking of the door made him turn. In a millisecond his lips parted and his brows raised.

“Murdoc !”

The same word with an extremely different meaning. This time, Stuart was truly calling to him, like a protective mother finding her child who had gone missing for days. Right as the boy spoke, he was cut off by the deafening sound of glass breaking, a large animal crashing into the room. It destroyed everything in the process; the walls, the window, the bed, Murdoc’s love letters,... Stuart. He was met with menacing pointy teeth as he felt the water against his body, all of it happening in barely seconds. Then the world went pitch black. The older man could only stand there as everything he had built seemed to be destroyed to ashes. His entire being trembled with shock as a single tear ran down his cheek.

Our love. Broken.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 9th anniversary Plastic Beach.


End file.
